


Aphrodite’s Wings

by n_v_c_r



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Friendly neighborhood killer vigilante, I SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON HIS ALIAS’S NAME OK, M/M, Other, Peter Nureyev’s identity issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26364964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n_v_c_r/pseuds/n_v_c_r
Summary: Peter Nureyev was not a murderer. Maybe he had ended someone’s life before- he shook off the memories. But he was not a monster- he never wanted to kill anyone. It was only done out of necessity. Although, here he was, holding the Duke- an actual Duke, not one of Nureyev’s stupid aliases- over the roof, genuinely debating whether to drop him. The drop would kill him quickly and mercifully. He wouldn’t be in pain.Peter Nureyev wasn’t a murderer, no. He wasn’t a monster.But Morpho Cypris was.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel, Rita & Juno Steel
Kudos: 12





	Aphrodite’s Wings

Peter Nureyev was not a murderer. Maybe he had ended someone’s life before- he shook off the memories. But he was not a monster- he never wanted to kill anyone. It was only done out of necessity. Although, here he was, holding the Duke- an actual Duke, not one of Nureyev’s stupid aliases- over the roof, genuinely debating whether to drop him. The drop would kill him quickly and mercifully. He wouldn’t be in pain.

What would Juno do? He would probably stun the man, get the information and then threaten death if he said anything. Unfortunately for the Duke, Nureyev was not Juno. So he dropped the man, hearing the blaring horns and screeching turns as people watched the man fall. So, Morpho Cypris (The alias Nureyev was hiding in at the moment) was turning and speeding off into the dark before anyone could look up and see his figure.

Duke wasn’t an innocent man. He had been involved in some… unsavory actions, best left to the imagination. It was purely because of money that Duke hadn’t been arrested. Nureyev didn’t want to really think about it, in all honesty. Duke deserved to die.

Peter Nureyev wasn’t a murderer, no. He wasn’t a monster.

But Morpho Cypris was.

-

Juno Steel was swamped with work. That was rare, to be honest, after the Kanagawa embarrassment- but there had been four separate people, all of which happened to be siblings, yelling at him to hurry up and solve the damn murder. 

Eventually, he had gotten Rita to kick them out, saying something about a rat infestation or cockroaches in the ceilings or whatever lie she had made up. He was thankful for her- but that didn’t help the fact that there was almost no evidence for the case. It was a suicide, plain and simple. Juno usually would just tell the family that, take the money and drop the case, especially with the horrible things Duke had been rumored to have done.

There was something oddly familiar about the case, though. He wasn’t sure what it was. It reminded him of something, he could never place. So Juno brushed away the feeling, getting to work on the ghost story that he knew he’d have to unravel thread by invisible thread.

-

Peter Nureyev was a thief. He did his best to avoid death as much as possible, as it made too many people ask too many questions. So when he got the call from a certain detective, concerning a murder that Morpho Cypris had been involved in, he had to make up a lie and say he’d call Juno back later.

Nureyev was pacing around the hotel room he hadn’t paid for, thinking. If he didn’t accept the offer and join Juno in the investigation, Juno would find out it was him- no doubt about it. The detective may be a little dense, but he was smarter than he gave himself credit for. If he did accept, though… he might have a chance to frame someone else for it. Maybe wire some money into different accounts, change some dates, plant some evidence.

He’d have to be careful. He couldn’t make anything that Juno would have noticed previously. He ran a hand though his impeccably managed hair, straightening up and calling the detective.

“Juno, dearest? I’d be honored to help with the investigation. Who did you say it was?” He did his best to ignore Morpho’s input in his head. 

“Took you long enough. Don’t tell me you were off stealing another mask, N-uh…”

“My name is fine, dear. If you don’t want that, any other I’ve used in front of you will suffice.”

“Right. Nureyev.”

“And, although you’ll see it in the news tonight, it wasn’t a mask today. A painting.” Had he stolen a painting? Well… he thinks best when he’s on the run.

“Goddamn it, Nureyev-“

“I’m on my way over, Juno dearest. Goodbye!” He hung up before Juno could protest.

Nureyev had a habit of keeping his things close to him, especially if it was in a place he didn’t quite trust. So although packing his bags was already easy enough, and Nureyev gave in to the temptation of stealing all the hotel lotions and soaps, along with a couple utensils. Once the bag was zipped close, with a bit of a struggle, he grabbed it and left the room, walking with a stance that screamed, “I belong here.”

Nobody questioned him.

-

Juno had to rush to get his office somewhat presentable. He always tried to impress Nureyev every time he came in, even though the thief was, in all honesty, messier than him. In the process, he knocked his coffee/energy drink/caffeine overdose nightmare onto the floor. Juno cursed himself, trying to clean up the most of it.

“Well, detective. If you wanted to be on your knees, you need only ask.”

Juno shot up immediately, face burning.

“Oh, Juno, I was only talking about cleaning! You know I can be rather disorganized. What did you think I was trying to imply?”

Juno rolled his eyes, ignoring Peter’s laughter. “Whatever. Let’s get to work, Nureyev.”

The thief sighed, pulling himself to sit on Juno’s desk, legs crossed. He was wearing unnervingly tall heels, more fitted to someone Juno would have known back when he was younger. Juno could never get the hang of those things.

Nureyev took them off, dropping them to the floor and peering over Juno’s current work. He couldn’t help but feel a little proud of himself- the detective had no evidence, other than a security tape of someone with bright blue hair walking out onto the roof with Duke, and then neither of them returned. Morpho Capris looked vastly different from Nureyev- Peter had long since mastered changing parts of his face temporarily with a mix of makeup and different waxes. The only feature that might have linked Nureyev and Capris was a freckle, right on the base of their necks. Nureyev shifted his shirt to cover it ever so subtly, making a mental note to get the freckle tattooed over in his normal skin tone. Other than that, Capris and Nureyev were completely different people.

Juno took the picture of the security footage, staring at the killer. “I managed to find a bit of his hair, but it came back as some guy named Morpheus, who kicked the bucket a couple months ago. We have two options. Either this guy is… even better than I expected, or we have a dead man on our hands.”

Nureyev hummed quietly, knowing exactly what option was the truth- Nureyev had gone grave robbing a couple months before, and stolen some hair from the more recent burials. Dying one strand wasn’t difficult, and neither was planting it on the body.

“We could always see if he’s still in the casket. Morpheus, was it?”

Juno nodded. “Yea. Morpheus Aluka. RITA!”

Rita yelped in surprise, and the sound of popcorn hitting the floor and something dropping and breaking flooded the quiet. “Yea, Mista Steel?” She said, in her shrill voice. Once Juno explained what he needed, she got to work, her response almost instant.

“Well, Mista Aluka’s grave was disturbed uh… 3 months ago, Mista Steel! One of his… EWWWW! One of his uh… eyes was stolen.”

Nureyev managed not to make a face of disgust as he was reminded of ripping the man’s eye out. God, it was horrid. It wasn’t the thing he had actually been stealing, of course. Only a diversion.

“That’s… odd. Why would our blue-haired mystery man want his eye?” Nureyev asked, staring at the image.

“I have no idea. Regardless, our job is to find who killed Duke, so… the hair is useless.”

“Yes, yes.” He pretended to study the documents that were strewn across the desk. “What about cameras from other buildings that may have caught the footage?”

Juno sighed. “I tried that. Only one would give it up. It didn’t give us any new information.” Juno handed Peter some pictures from the footage.

Nureyev took it, looking for something that could be considered ‘evidence.’ “Oh, dear. Where did he get these clothes? That style is very… 21st century.”

Juno looked over at it, nodding. “I thought that was odd too. But I doubt it’ll be very important, unless he’s wearing that crap everywhere he goes.”

Nureyev hummed, pocketing the picture and putting the disgustingly tall heels back on. “I’ll be back, detective. I have some security footage to obtain.”

Juno grumbled slightly, saying something about how it was illegal to steal it, but nothing more.

Nureyev went off, disappearing as he went to go, one- get Morpho’s clothes and plant some evidence. Maybe ‘hide’ them in a dumpster or have remnants of the burnt cloth strewn about a camp fire. Two- to scrub the security footage and frame a certain Kanagawa that had just bought herself out of jail.


End file.
